Friday, March 2, 2018

Impact Of The 1991 Uprising On Iraqi Society Interview With Natl Univ of Singapore’s Fanar Haddad

On February 28, 1991 President Bush announced a ceasefire to
end the Gulf War. They next day Iraqi soldiers returning to Basra started the
revolt against Saddam Hussein, which would quickly spread to all the major
cities of southern Iraq. Fanar Haddad in Sectarianism In Iraq argued that the
1991 uprising was a turning point in sectarian relations in the country. Iraq’s
communities came to see the events in completely different ways. What follows
is an interview with Haddad to help explain how that happened. Haddad is a Senior
Research Fellow at the Middle East Institute at the National University of
Singapore and a Non-Resident Senior Fellow at the Middle East Institute in
Washington DC, and can be followed on Twitter at @fanarhaddad.

1. Let’s start with
the official version of the 1991 uprising. How did Saddam’s government portray
events?

The Iraqi regime portrayed the events of 1991 in much the
same way that regimes the world over would portray rebellions against their authority:
sedition, anarchy, a conspiracy, a foreign plot, treason etc. Look at how the
Syrian regime describes its opponents for a more recent example. Indeed this is
far from the only parallel between the two cases. Take the stark polarization
of public opinion towards the two sets of events and particularly towards those
who fought against the regimes: they are either freedom fighters and
revolutionaries deserving of unbridled solidarity and support or contemptible
and treacherous murderers towards whom not even the most basic forms of pity,
mercy or human kindness should be shown. Related to this is of course the
debate on intervention; again, the parallel is obvious in the ironclad
conviction amongst oppositionists and their sympathizers of the necessity and
virtue of foreign intervention. Likewise, regime supporters in both cases
maintained an unshakeable belief that, whatever the faults of the state, this
was still an insidious attack on the nation led by foreigners and traitors
(Iranians in 1991, jihadis/takfiris/imperialists/Zionists today). But of course
the parallels only go so far. 1991 was not internationalized and the violence
lasted for less than a month whereas the Syrian case is Spanish-civil-war-esque
in its internationalization and it is a tragedy that has lasted 7 years and
counting.

Indeed, not to trivialize the trauma and devastation that
was suffered by millions in 1991, the events of that year pale in geostrategic
and regional significance when compared to the Syrian civil war and of course to
Iraq’s own post-2003 civil wars. The apocalyptic scenes of destruction
(particularly in Karbala) that shocked so many in 1991 have been repeated in
too many Iraqi towns and cities since 2003. Having said that, there is no
underestimating the impact of 91 within Iraq. It was a break and a point of no
return between the Kurdish region and Arab Iraq. The uprisings also shaped certain
sections of Shi’a society and certain forms of Shi’a identity with important
consequences that extended well into the post-2003 era. I also believe that no
other event, not even 1979, had as detrimental an impact on state-Shi’a
relations, and even Sunni-Shi’a relations, in pre-2003 Iraq.

Part of this is related to how the regime responded to the
events and how they portrayed them throughout the sanctions era. This was
especially pronounced with regards to the southern rebellions – after all,
Kurdish separatism and Kurdish insurgency were hardly unprecedented in 1991.
The southern rebellions by contrast were more threatening to the regime in that
their success would not only mean a loss of territory but a change of regime.
The southern rebellions were also more jarring to the regime: the scale of the rebellion
and the depth of the rejection were unprecedented. So you had this enormous
event at the end of the Gulf War that cast a shadow over the sanctions period.
The gravity of its memory was matched by the enormity of the taboo that surrounded
it. The only permissible mention of the events was the state-sanctioned version
(under the euphemism ‘the page of betrayal and treason’ or, less formally, ‘the
mob’ – al-ghawgha’ – or, the most neutral permissible term: ‘the
events’). To one extent or another, many Iraqis subscribed to the
regime’s version or some variant of it. This was due to a lack of alternate
sources of information but it was also due to pre-existing prejudices. The idea
of an unruly and destructive mob emerging out of the south is one that
resonated with a lot of people in the rest of Arab Iraq. This was not only a
function of sectarian identity; it was also a function of class and regional
prejudices. So there was more going on beyond the sectarian dimension: for many
people it wasn’t a prejudice against Shi’as per se but against a particular
sort of Shi’a defined and disparaged by perceptions of class, region,
educational attainment and the like. Hence the fairly common case of middle
class Shi’a Baghdadis who would refer to the events of 1991 as al-ghawgha’: they wouldn’t be looking down on ‘the mob’ because it was Shi’a or
because it was ‘Iranian’ but because of a variety of other cultural and
economic differentiators.

The regime was aware that the magnitude of the events
required a concerted messaging effort to ensure that this most brazen of
challenges to its authority is denied any legitimacy whatsoever. This began even
before the end of the violence (Saddam gave an address on March 16th
describing the still ongoing events as a foreign plot). Most famously there
were the seven anonymously authored articles that appeared in the official
state newspaper, Al Thawra, in April 1991 – less than a month after the
uprisings. The narrative the state propagated was predictable enough: the
uprisings were an anti-Arab, anti-Iraqi, foreign, Iranian invasion of Iraq led
by Iraqi traitors and their Iranian accomplices. Drilling this message remained
a concern for the regime to its dying days; for example, state TV would run
documentaries every March commemorating the ‘page of betrayal and treason’.

This was of course extremely polarizing and it became a problem
throughout the 90’s that only fully revealed itself after 2003: there was a
massive disconnect between, on the one hand, a section of society that defined
its post-91 existence through the prism of the traumas of 91 and, on the other,
a section of society who were largely oblivious to this. The impact of 91 on
its survivors and the fact that it generated an acutely sect-centric sense of
Shi’a victimhood were not things that were readily known by outsiders.

2. During the revolt
there were plenty of stories that the rebels had pictures of Ayatollah Khomeini
along with other Shiite clerics. It was also widely portrayed as an expression
of Shiite anger. Afterward there were derogatory names used to describe southerners.
How was everything interpreted amongst Sunnis, and how did the name calling
come about?

This raises the important question of sect-coding: when does
a rebellion or demonstration become a ‘Shia rebellion’ or a ‘Sunni
demonstration’? Few things carry as much potential to do political damage as
sect-coding (think of the fate of Bahrain’s ‘Shi’a demonstrations’ or Syria’s
‘Sunni rebellion’). If we’re too liberal in how easily we sect code, we end up
unfairly delegitimizing people and events regardless of our intentions.
However, the converse is no less tricky: a strict avoidance of any mention of sectarian
identity leads to inaccuracies and in some instances it can be unjust in that
it denies the existence of a sect-specific grievance (sort of the sect-equivalent
of the offence caused by male denials of patriarchy). Having said that, were
the uprisings in southern Iraq ‘Shi’a uprisings’? The answer as far as I am
concerned is yes. Even if there were many people who joined the uprising not as Shi’as or for Shi’as and even if there were a variety of drivers for why
people joined and why they rebelled, and even though the uprisings were in no
way ‘anti-Sunni’, there can be no denying that a specifically Shi’a set of
grievances and a specifically Shi’a sense of victimhood were part of the mix. I
think the question we should be asking is, so what? Why is it incriminating for
sectarian identity to be invoked in a political cause if the sectarian other is
not being targeted? To put it another way, it is absurd to suggest that a
‘Shi’a rebellion’ or a ‘Sunni uprising’ must by definition be aimed at
non-Shi’as and non-Sunnis respectively. But alas the normative assumption is
that something sect-coded (especially if it’s a political issue) is something
bad.

As regards Sunni perceptions of 1991, the assertion of Shi’a
identity (a taboo in Iraq, particularly back then) was, at best, something that
Sunnis felt excluded by and, at worst, something they felt threatened them. The
fact that there was a strong Shi’a Islamist element to the uprising and to the
expressions of Shi’a identity also alienated people who were already somewhat
predisposed to viewing assertions of Shi’a identity as potential signs of
pro-Iranian sympathies. A picture of Khomeini would go a long way towards
validating such suspicions and validating the state’s line. The intensity of
the uprising’s violence and destruction hardly allayed these fears.

The simple fact is that, in the confusion of March 1991, most
Sunnis saw the regime as the lesser of two evils and that, in the years
following the events, they were susceptible to the regime’s concerted and
relentless messaging campaign. Of course there are exceptions, just as there
were exceptions amongst Shi’as and others, but denying that this was a general
sentiment amongst Sunni Iraqis is a needlessly forced and counterproductive display
of political correctness. There are reasons why 1991 proved to be divisive.
Pointing this out and trying to understand these reasons is not something that
we should shy away from.

3. For many Shiites
they portrayed the uprising as a huge loss when it was put down, but then a
sign of pride that it happened. Can you explain that and how the events of 1991
helped strengthen Shiite identity?

As far as 1991 and Shi’a identity I think it deepened
sect-centricity and it accentuated an already pre-existing sense of victimhood.
Whatever grievances Shi’as might have had against the state and whatever sense
of victimhood they had, 1991 was the first instance where Shi’as felt attacked as
Shi’as. This was different to episodic periods of tension between the state
and Shi’a political movements. It was different to perceptions of Shi’a exclusion
through the normative status accorded to Sunni Islam (for example in the call
to prayer or in school curricula). It was different to the grievances arising
from the suppression of Shi’a identity by for example the proscriptions
surrounding Ashura. The events of 1991 were perceived as an attack against
Shi’as as opposed to an attack against a particular Shi’a movement or against a
specific group of Shi’a people. This was the perception that emerged out of
1991.

This coincided with several other processes all of which
reinforced the tendency towards sect-centricity amongst many Shi’as. Firstly
there is the contraction of the state’s resources and hence a reduction in its
ability to provide an Iraq-wide web of patronage. A consequence of this is that
the state’s long standing regional and tribal biases came into sharper relief
as the gap between haves and have nots widened. The perception amongst
many Shi’as and particularly those of the southern governorates was that the
widening of this gap was due not to tribal and regional considerations but primarily
to sectarian ones – which of course fit neatly into the trauma of 91 and the
rise of sect-centricity. 1991 also signaled the start of an unprecedentedly
large exodus out of Iraq. For those leaving southern Iraq, the uprising of 1991
was often the last major milestone in their lives in Iraq. It therefore played a
perhaps outsized role in their perceptions of self: it was the event that
signaled an end of one life and the beginning of a new, often harder one. And
because 1991 was perceived as a case of Shi’a victimization the displacement it
led to accentuated sect-centricity amongst Shi’a in exile: the memory of 91 led
many to feel that they were exiles because they were Shi’a. Finally, all
of this coincided with the emergence of the Iraqi-opposition-in-exile industry.
There had long been Iraqi opposition movements in Syria, Iran and elsewhere but
the scale changed dramatically in the 90’s: diaspora communities were larger,
they were geographically more spread out, opposition movements proliferated and
grew, and the U.S. took a greater interest in Iraqi opposition politics (which
itself further incentivized sect-centricity amongst opposition figures).

4. How were those
divergent views continued after 2003?

It was immediately clear in April 2003 that the memory of 91
was a burning issue that had been suppressed for 12 years. This was evident in
the early opening up of the mass graves and the emotions surrounding that
(again you see a polarization in opinions towards this issue based on initial
views towards the rebellion). It was evident in how several towns held
commemorative events in honor of those killed in 1991; in the poetry that was
made to honor the memory of the uprising; in the way Intifadha was used as
the title for all manner of political and civil society organizations. In
short, in the immediate post-2003 period, the memory of 1991 turned the Intifadha
into a brand (there was even an official Intifadha Shield – dir’
al-Intifadha – in Maliki’s days).

But truth be told, the brand did not last long. It’s not
that those who held 1991 in an especially hallowed light changed their minds;
rather, and as has so often happened in recent Iraqi history, 1991 has been
overshadowed by more recent and more shocking tragedies. You still have yearly
commemorations of 1991 in various towns and villages across central and
southern Iraq (though these tend to be organized locally) and the Intifadha brand
still comes up (at one point there was a Hashd formation named after it). But
all in all, there are more salient events from the last 15 years that exercise
and divide popular memory – that’s to say nothing of the challenges and
preoccupations that most Iraqis have to face in their day to day lives.

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About Me

Musings On Iraq was started in 2008 to explain the politics, economics, security, culture and history of Iraq via original articles and interviews. If you wish to contact me personally my email is: motown67@aol.com